


Learning the Letters

by soprano_buddy15



Category: The Last Kingdom, The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Learning to read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24295048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15
Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4Finan teaches Sihtric to read.
Relationships: Finan & Sihtric
Comments: 14
Kudos: 57





	Learning the Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was inspired by S03E05 (I think it was episode 5) where Finan has to explain what an approximation to a Witan was to Sihtric. After watching it again with a friend, I realized that Sihtric probably does not know how to read or write, and what better time to figure it out than when protecting a bunch of children. 
> 
> I also drew on my very limited knowledge of Latin from my experience of singing in choirs - it’s relatively simple when you get the hang of it, but again, I have not ever studied the language!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and constructive comments are always welcome! Just don’t be rude, because nobody wants that.

As much as Finan enjoyed going out and fighting with his best friends, he also appreciated the times he could sit in and read a bit. 

Saltwic’s library was… small, to say the least. It was mainly made up of various texts from the Bible, and correspondence from Aethelflaed and her father. Although Finan grew up speaking Gaelic and suffering through the writing lessons his parents forced upon him and his brother, he could read and write in Latin relatively well. 

Not particularly wanting to read scripture at the moment, he chose the next most interesting thing from the small shelf of scrolls: a document of land leases. The scroll was older, and had a ledger of all of the taxes owed to the Lady Aethelflaed. He sat down at the table, being careful of the candle on the wood, and began to read.

“What are you doing?” 

Finan looked up at the sound of Sihtric’s voice. He was leaning against the doorframe, his dagger in his hands. The sound of Aelfwynn and Aethelstan playing filtered through behind him, as well as Stiorra yelling at them to keep quiet. “Just trying to do something. Take a break from the children.” He glanced at the weapon in Sihtric’s hands. “Why do you have your dagger out?” 

“Oh,” he brought a hand up to his head, and Finan noticed his hair had been cut and rebraided. “Stiorra was annoyed at how unkempt my hair was. She just shaved it for me.”

Finan glanced up at his own hair. It was becoming long enough in the front for him to see it over his forehead. “Aye, I might need her to cut mine as well.”

Sihtric tucked his dagger into the sheath on his lower back and came further into the room. He gently took the parchment from Finan’s hands and examined it, his finger running softly over the faded ink.

Finan watched him, curious about his behaviour. Studying Sihtric’s face, Finan realized that there was no comprehension in Sihtric’s eyes as he traced the letters. “Sihtric,” he said slowly. “Do you know how to read?”

“Hm?” Sihtric looked up from his trance, and flushed as he hastily set the parchment down. “Oh, um-"

“Sit down a while, Sihtric.” Finan scooted over to make room on the bench. Sihtric hesitated, but then gingerly sat down. Finan spread the parchment flat, and pointed to the first word on the page. “Now, the lucky thing about Latin,” he began, “is that all of the vowels are pronounced the same.”

“Vowels?” The word was hard for Sihtric to say. 

“Um-" Finan looked around, and finding a scrap of parchment and an inkwell, brought it back to the table and began writing them out. He explained how each symbol was a letter, and each letter was given a specific sound. 

Sihtric was staring attentively at the page as Finan showed Sihtric the words on the page, soaking up everything he was saying. “Does that all make sense?” Finan asked once he was done.

Sihtric huffed, making a face at Finan. “It makes more sense to just talk to each other.” 

Finan laughed in agreement. “Aye, it would.” He positioned the taxes document in front of Sihtric. “Now it is your turn.”

The smile slowly slipped from Sihtric’s face as he concentrated. He sounded out the words, waiting for Finan’s encouraging nod to keep going. “Well done!” Finan clapped Sihtric on the back when he accurately said the title at the top of the deed. “Do you know what it says?” 

“Not in the slightest,” Sihtric laughed, but Finan knew that he was pleased with himself. 

Finan picked up the parchment and read aloud from it. “Land Leases from the Estate of Saltwic.” He said, and snorted at the expression on Sihtric’s face.

“This is what you make me read?” He exclaimed, and Finan shot off of the bench as Sihtric moved to slap his arm. After glaring at Finan a moment longer, he turned back and studied the title again. 

Standing by the bookshelf, Finan smiled as Sihtric mouthed out the word, getting more confident every pass. He turned to see what else was on the shelf, and after thinking a moment, grabbed the Bible and flipped it open to chapter eighteen of Proverbs.

He brushed his hands over the verse as he found it, remembering the first time he read it. It had been in Gaelic, but the meaning was the same. 

He gently set the giant text down in front of Sihtric, and although Sihtric could not read, he could recognize what it was. “Why would you show me this?” He asked, skeptical.

“Try this verse.” Finan pointed to verse twenty-four. Still skeptical, Sihtric turned to the dusty book and sounded it out. He sat back happily as he finished, and Finan was nodding in approval. 

“Now what does it say?”

It took Finan a moment to reply, but when he did, Finan did so from memory. “‘One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.’”

The words hung in the air between them, and Finan could tell Sihtric was thinking them over. Finan had thought of the verse countless times since he was exiled from Ireland, yet he could never fully believe the second half of the verse. After all, it had been his brother, his best friend, to show him this verse. But it had also been his brother to sell him to the slavers. 

Sihtric reached over and placed his hand on Finan’s shoulder. “Thank you for showing me this,” he said, squeezing gently. His voice was soft with understanding. “I appreciate it.”

Finan sniffed and smiled up at him. “I do think of you as my brothers,” he admitted to Sihtric. “You and Uhtred…and Baby Monk.”

Sihtric grinned. “I think we all feel the same, Finan.” He stood up and clapped Finan on the back. “And I think you need to practice your teaching skill.”

Finan stammered in protest as Sihtric laughed and walked out of the room. Grinning, he shut the Bible and followed Sihtric to help Stiorra prepare the evening meal.


End file.
